


and it's alright (calling out for somebody to hold tonight)

by tommoandbambi (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Fluff, Grimmy doesn't even appear in this he's mentioned for two seconds, Harry isn't trans he just likes lingerie and pastel things, Liam doesn't understand gay sex, Lingerie, M/M, Niall is actually God but no one listens to him, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, because of obvious reasons, breaking gender norms!!!!!, but i slipped and fell and now there's plot, the gryles is lame too, this is my first try at smut please dont hate me, this was supposed to be porn without plot, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tommoandbambi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry turns around, setting down a spatula before leaning against the counter in a way that further elongates his body. The view of Harry, with his laurels and stomach tattoos on display and his swallows peeking out endearingly from his bra straps. The bra itself is quite elegant, made mostly of lace and thin enough that Louis can make out the hardened shapes of his nipples from under the lavender material. He feels his knees weaken when he glances lower to see that this pair of panties, much like the ones before, is sheer. Louis can make out the large outline of Harry's hardened cock through the underwear, and he wettens his lips when he notices that the head is sticking out from the waistband, pink and already a bit wet at the tip. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>"Do you like it?" Harry asks sheepishly, his cheeks filling with color and Louis smiles when he notices that his boyfriend is wearing makeup.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>(aka: the au where harry wears lingerie and louis is in love with him no matter what he chooses to wear)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and it's alright (calling out for somebody to hold tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! this is completely unedited and my first try at gay smut but I am extremely happy with it? It's only 8k and was meant to be PWP but I always have to slip some sappy feelings in somewhere! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> **disclaimer:**  
>  I do not own One Direction nor any of the members in it. I also do not own Nick Grimshaw and these characters are not derivative of the real people that they are based upon.

Louis has seen a lot of things in his life.

He has witnessed his Psych teacher clipping her toenails during an exam; he has seen the sun rise elegantly, bathed in glorious hues of fuchsia and lavender, over the cresting waves of the Atlantic Ocean during holidays; he has seen his best friend, Zayn, dance to Beyonce clad in nothing but Iron Man boxers; he has watched all of his younger siblings shakily take their first steps; and he has witnessed a prostitute try to coerce a policeman into spending a night together. But absolutely _nothing_ will ever compare to the sight laid before him.

Louis shakily sets down his keys in one of the ceramic bowls that his best mate, Harry, gave him for his twenty-second birthday and takes a cautious step into the flat. The telly is on, humming low in the background and casting a blue light that mingles with the orange glow of his lamp Niall claims is shaped eerily like a penis, and his dishwasher is still loudly thrumming from where he turned it on before he left to put petroleum in his car. Louis toes off his depleted vans and shrugs off his jacket, keeping his eyes focused on the sniffling form that is swaddled beneath a knit blanket on his couch.

"Haz?" Louis asks gently, walking forward to his best friend cautiously. "What're you doing here? I thought you had your big date with Nick?"

Harry peers up at him, eyes glazed with unshed tears and cheeks a muted red from embarrassment. His hair is shoved delicately away from his narrow face by a flowercrown, and his lips are stained with a deep red that Louis thinks might be the result of lipstick. Louis' eyes scrape downwards, taking in Harry's heaving, flushed chest and the sheer, creamy material that is draped elegantly over his inked torso, allowing the shapes of his butterfly tattoo to be seen through the fabric. Harry's shoulders hunch downwards self-consciously, in a manner that Louis has seen his body conform to ever since they were teenagers, while Louis sits down on the couch beside him precariously.

"It.. didn't happen," Harry mumbles, his voice low and rumbling and bathed in a vulnerable tone. "I thought that I would surprise him when we got back to his flat, but when he took off my clothes he.."

Louis averts his eyes from the pale, smooth expanse of Harry's thigh that is clad in sheer, white stockings brushing against his dark jeans and straightens his shoulders, forcing himself to focus on placating his friend. _Get your shit together, Tommo._ He rests his arm around Harry's broad shoulders and coaxes him to come closer before running a gentle hand through his slightly tangled curls that hit just above Harry's collarbones in a practiced movement. Louis has been best friends with Harry for years; he _knows_ how to take care of him when he's upset about something.

"What did he do, love?"

Harry inhales shakily and crosses an insecure arm over his chest, "He _laughed_. He took a step away from me and laughed and asked me if I was joking. And I --" Harry makes a small sound in the back of his throat hopelessly. "I didn't know what to say, so I laughed, too, and then ran out of his flat without my bloody _trousers_. And I didn't want to go out into the streets looking like this so I just took the lift and broke into your flat. I'm sorry."

Louis clenches his jaw, keeping up the steady rhythm of his hand sifting through Harry's hair, being mindful to not move the flowercrown, while mentally tearing off Grimmy's marble-sized balls with his bare hands. His chest feels like there's a fire bursting through his lungs but he tamps it down, forces himself to smile soothingly at Harry, instead.

"He's an arsehole," Louis concludes bluntly. "And he's an _idiot_. You look fucking beautiful in this, Harry."

"You're just saying that," he whispers.

Louis shifts and rests both of his hands on Harry's bare shoulders firmly, making the blanket fall onto his lap, he furrows his eyebrows and forces Harry's disarmingly green eyes to meet his own. _Made in Chelsea_ and his dishwasher are the only things that disrupt their small alcove of silence, but it still feels monumental, for some, indiscernible reason. Harry blinks away a small tear, and it's only then that Louis realizes that he's wearing mascara, too.

"You don't think that this is weird?" Harry asks quietly. "That, that _I'm_ weird?"

Louis shakes his head feverishly. " _No_ , not at all. You're your own person and you are entitled to wear whatever you want. Clothes and makeup shouldn't be assigned to a certain gender, and imbeciles like Nick _fucking_ Grimshaw fail to understand that. I am being serious when I say that you look amazing in this, and that you shouldn't worry about what arseholes have to say when _you_ are happy with what you're wearing."

Harry tilts his head downwards, making his flowercrown that's crafted of daisies and delicate white roses tilt precariously over his head. He looks like the first snowfall of winter, so pure and beautiful and _bright_ , and Louis can't fathom why anyone would ever want this glorious man to melt away.

"I just.." Harry whispers. "I wanted to feel _pretty_. And I've never.. shown anybody _this_ , hell, I've hardly even accepted the fact that I like looking like this. But, I. I took a shot with Nick, and it backfired. Royally."

Louis lightly tightens his hands on Harry's masculine shoulders, urging for him to look back up at him. Harry gazes up at him, with his wide, Bambi eyes delicately. His tears are slowly starting to subside, but his plump bottom lip is still trembling infinitesimally and he looks like a porcelain doll, and the only thing that Louis wants to do is _protect_ his mate. 

The next moment, to Louis, can be described as several things: shocking, electrifying, monumental, magnetizing, glorious, climatic, surprising, but most of all -- unprecedented.

It all happens in what feels like the span of a hummingbird's heartbeat. With Harry delicately throwing his arms around Louis' neck and weaving his hand in his hair before pulling him into a biting kiss that will forever imprint itself in his mind and alight his veins with a rush of excitement, while Louis relaxes his hands on Harry's shoulders before holding on once more, tightening until he felt the soft silk of Harry's lingerie against the exposed skin of his chest that's bared from the low cut of his vest, the brush of Harry's eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, the hitched breath exhaling from Harry's plush lips before their mouths slotted together so perfectly that Louis could almost feel like it's a manifestation of one of his dreams.

And Louis _wants_ , he wants to pull Harry against him and kiss his friend until they're both panting to catch their hasty breaths once more and the only thing he could taste for days would be the sweet taste of the remnants of Harry's lipstick. He wants to feel their chests rise and fall together, like they're one conjoined being until Harry whispers for them to move to Louis' unmade bed, where they would be gliding against each other and pressing moans into one another's necks until delicate petals fall from Harry's flowercrown to rest in the crevices of Louis' messy sheets. He wants this so badly, has wanted it for so long -- but he _can't_.

"I can't," Louis pants as soon as he -sorrowfully- detaches from Harry's addicting lips. " _We_ can't."

Harry looks at him with the despair of a falling star, "We can't?"

Louis gently cups Harry's chin in his hand, "We can't. Not like this."

"Are you?" Harry breathes and shakes off  Louis' hands from his shoulders before standing. "Is this?" He waves his hand uselessly in the air, like he's sifting through the atmosphere to try and find the words that he actually wants to say. "I'm going to leave."

Louis stands up quickly, knees threatening to give out from beneath him. "No, _Harry_. Don't go, please."

Harry turns to face him, and Louis tries to avert his eyes, to look away from the sheer, lace panties that leave no imagination to the beauty of Harry's sizable cock, but then he paces away, pert bum swaying tauntingly with every stride and the hem of his sheer dress falling just above the agonizing swell of his hips. He grabs one of his massive, designer coats that Louis _knows_ for a fact he had to pay for with three month's worth of paycheques from the coat-rack Liam forced him to buy and slips it on over his thin lingerie hurriedly. He turns back to face Louis, mouth parted slightly and the muted light from the dim flat making stark, ethereal shadows on the contours of his face. His eyes are shining with unshed tears again, and Louis feels like an utter and complete _prat_.

"I'm so sorry I put you in this situation, Lou," Harry mumbles so low that he's hardly able to be heard over the telly, "I'm so, _so_ sorry."

"H, _no_ \--" Louis protests but Harry's already shutting Louis' door behind him. Louis slips on his jacket and sprints out of his flat without his shoes but Harry and his fucking stupidly long legs have long vanished. "Fucking shit," he whispers to himself, kicking his foot against his open door forlornly.

**\\\**

" _Finally_ ," Niall crows behind his cloud of smoke. "Payno, pay up. November was my month."

Liam mumbles something unintelligible under his breath and perches up from where he was sunken in the cheap bean bag chair that Louis kipped from a garage sale a few months ago to fish around in his trousers for his wallet. He slaps some notes in Niall's outstretched hand, and Louis balks at them, trying to feel angry but he's too consumed with the drawling effects of his high to really bitch about it.

"What," Louis forms the word slowly, his mouth feels like cotton. "in the fuck are you two on about?"

"Oh, come on," Liam snips around a mouthful of crisps. He's always a bit angry when he's high. "The sexual tension between you and Haz has been choking us for _years_ , it has just been a matter of time until you two finally broke and smacked your dicks together."

"Smacked our--" Louis echoes and sits up on the couch to shoot Liam an incredulous glance. "Liam, what do you think gay couples _do_ to have sex?"

Liam shrugs and takes the spliff from Niall's hand before inhaling a calculated drag.

"I don't know? It has nothing to do with me." Liam shrugs.

"It's like a wise man once said," Niall murmurs from where he's flicking through the channels on the telly. "Mo' penis, mo' problems."

Louis rolls his eyes and tries not to laugh, taking the spliff from Liam's hand and passing it off directly to Niall.

"We didn't even fuck, though. We just _kissed_ , but I put a stop to it because he was emotionally unstable and now he hasn't answered any of my texts for the past _week_." Louis leans down and steals a handful of Liam's chips. "And when I stopped by the bakery the other day, he hid under the counter and Babs lied to me and told me that he was sick."

"Pause," Liam holds up his hand. "Why didn't you fuck him if he was willing?"

Louis kicks out his sock-clad foot to hit Liam in the back of the head. Liam  
huffs and swats at his foot, and Louis just rolls his eyes and crosses his legs beneath his bum. He loves Liam, truly, he does, but he can be extremely dull at times.

"I didn't fuck him because I'm not an arrogant _douche_ , Leeyum." Louis tilts his head back against the couch and stares at the eccentric pattern embedded on his ceiling dazedly. "Plus, like. I imagined my first time with Harry to be special, and I wanted to keep it that way."

Niall makes a happy sound, "That's cute. Why haven't you told him how you feel, yet?"

Louis shrugs, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He has felt.. stuff for Harry for, like, an inordinate amount of time. Ever since the first time they met in the dingy loos at sixth form, Louis has been embarrassingly arse over kettle in love with Harry. There's something about his eyes and the way they light up when he tilts his head back to give into his loud, rambunctious laughs, and the way that he is always so genuinely interested in everything that surrounds him, and how he is so unique and _Harry_ , that makes Louis feel so hopelessly enamored for him that he can nearly _choke_ on his feelings. And he has wanted to tell Harry, to come clean and bare his feelings for him, but he just _can't_. The chance that Harry: lovely, magnificent Harry, won't reciprocate feelings for him is astronomical, and he can't risk his friendship with his best mate for his own, petty feelings.

"Why bother?" Louis murmurs and intercepts where Niall was handing the spliff to Liam to take a long drag. He lets the warm smoke fill his lungs and stars burst beneath his eyelids and tries to not let his thoughts consume his mind and burst his veins with a heady explosion of anxiety. "He's happy with dating people, and I'm happy with.." Louis waves his hand in the air, not bothering to search for any proper words.

"What even made him 'emotionally unstable' anyways?" Liam bites.

Louis shakes his head, fringe sliding over his left eye. He wishes he would've put on his beanie before sitting down.  "There's is no way in fuck I'm telling your curious arse, I probably shouldn't have even told you two twats about the kiss."

Niall makes a small sound of agreement and Louis blows out air through his nose tiredly. His eyes are heavy, threatening to slip shut and lull him steadily to sleep, but he doesn't want to close his eyes and have the memories of Harry in lacy panties and sheer lingerie force it's way into the forefront of his mind anymore.  (The images of Harry's pert bum covered in lacy panties seem to always attack him when he allows himself to let his guard down and give into the ebbs of his lingering mind. It's brutal.)

"You're weird, Lou," Liam deadpans.

Louis sighs, the air feels heavy from the smoke and his fingers are itching to pick up his mobile and call Harry for the billionth time and try to salvage their friendship that he's been omitting his feelings for for fucking _years_.

"Hand me my phone, Niall." Louis demands, holding out his hand. "I need to make a call."

Niall shakes his head, "No. You're not going to call Harry again, it's pathetic. He thinks that you're mad at him and you think you hurt him, so nothing is going to be fixed unless you corner him and force him to talk about what happened. Also, I am five minutes away from solving my algorithm for my fucking  Intro to Engineering project and the sounds of you whining into the phone about your feelings and Haz's soft lips isn't going to help _anything_."

"You do math while you're high?" is the only thing that Liam really absorbs from Niall's tirade.

Louis whines lowly in the back of his throat and drops his hand over the arm of the couch he's sprawled over. He wishes that Zayn was here, he'd give in to his whining and pity him enough to rub his hair while he soliloquizes sadly about how royally he fucked up with Harry. But Zayn is off on his gap year, traveling through colorful countries to get more 'cultured', which.. is totally unfair.

"I miss Zayn," Louis whines and kicks Liam's head again. "And I miss Harry."

"I swear that everyone's lives would be so much simpler if people just listened to me," Niall laments, a handful of crisps hit Louis in his eye.

He thinks that the burning in his eyes and the way his face will probably smell like potatoes for the next week is supposed to be a metaphor for something. But that might just be the weed talking.

**\\\**

"Shit," Louis curses and grabs a handful of napkins from the counter, dabbing vainly at his black jumper that he conveniently spilled his piping hot tea all over.  The greasy-haired barista behind the espresso machine hardly muffles his laughs at him. Louis throws the napkins at him in a fit of anger. "Your tea is _shite_ , anyways. Who in the hell only has skim milk available at a tea shop?"

The barista shrugs and Louis huffs, leaning down to grab his skateboard before clutching his half-empty cuppa against his chest and weaving his way towards the exit of the crammed shop. He is pressing his back against the frosted glass doors to try and leave without having to use his hands when he catches sight of long curls and gold boots  working their way through the throng of campus students headed towards their next class outside. He slides out of the teashop and clears his throat, dropping his board on the ground and pushing forward with one, scuffed vans clad foot before making his way through the people on the sidewalk.

" _Harry_ ," he yells over the sounds of people chattering and phones ringing and cars honking. He watches Harry turn towards his flat building uselessly and narrowly misses running over a girl with a sick sleeve of tattoos on her arms. He apologizes before yelling again, "Harry _fucking_ Styles!"

Louis stops at the steps to Harry's building, the same one that is painted an endearingly unique shade of eggshell blue and has flowers hanging from all of the windows. It's quite small for a flat building, with only about ten flats in it and a manually operated lift, but it's the perfect place for Harry and it's in walking distance of both Louis' flat and their favorite pizza place with the epic sauce and Louis didn't know how much he missed this dingy building for the past week until _now_.

He grabs his skateboard, takes a quick sip from his tea, and then takes the stairs two steps at a time towards the vintage white double doors. He knocks and is let in by the short girl with blue hair that lives just below Harry's flat and has a habit of parading around her tall girlfriend that likes to give pancakes to every single tenant of the building every Sunday morning. Louis nods at her in silent thanks before making his way to the cast iron lift.

Harry's flat is on the very top floor of the three-story building, and Louis was with him when he bought the place and helped him decorate it with warm hues and fairy lights whenever he first moved in two years ago. His door has chipped paint and the ' _3A_ ' that it graces has lavender paint over the letters. Louis inhales the last, disappointing sip of his tea and tries to summon up any ounce of courage he has left in his body before knocking on Harry's door.

And in the greatest result of all anticlimactic phenomenons: there's no answer. Typically, Harry would yell out a muffled 'coming' and answer the door with at least one article of clothing missing from his lean body or he would just yell for Louis to come in and make himself at home. Instead, the only resultant sound that comes muffled through the door is the sound of feet walking away. Louis doesn't know why that hurts his heart so much, but it does.

He knocks again, "H, I know you're in there." he yells through the door. "C'mon, we have to talk. Don't make me break in."

Louis sighs and sticks his hand in the pocket of his joggers, feeling around for his keys. He grabs the set and searches for the one that is conveniently leopard printed (Harry copied it for him and claimed that this was the only suitable design) before putting it into the lock, he turns it to the right and opens up Harry's door, taking a cautious step inside before closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes. He sets his skateboard in his allotted spot by Harry's bookshelf and inhales the warm, familiar scent of the cinnamon candles that abide in nearly every corner of the flat. 

"It's not very polite to just walk into someone's home, you know," Harry's low drawl makes Louis look just ahead of him.

He's standing there, with disarming green eyes squinting at him and a strand of brown curls laying against his cheek while the rest of his hair is pulled up into an endearing messy bun. He has donut-patterned socks on and black jeans so tight that Louis suspects they might be yoga pants, all topped off with that nauseating neon yellow jumper that Harry loves to wear. Louis' heart jumps, he feels like he hasn't seen his best mate in so _long_. The relief almost overshadows the anxiety that's pooling in his stomach.

"I'm not known for having great manners," Louis tries to force himself to smile, it feels foreign. "But I knew that you wouldn't have let me in anyways. You haven't been answering me."

Harry nods, his tongue points out to wetten his bitten red lips in nervously.

"Why haven't you been answering me?" Louis asks, and he _hates_ this.

He hates how Harry is looking at him, with guarded eyes like he's assessing an enemy. He hates how they're both _standing_ , how there's so much distance between them, which is a stark contrast to the way that they're usually nestled on Harry's small couch, bodies melding into each other warmly and cuddling because that's just how they _are_. He hates how he doesn't know how Harry's week has gone, how he doesn't know how he did on his Psych 100 test and if he finally decided on whether he wants to adopt a kitten or not. But, most of all, he hates the fear that's dredging through his system. He hates how he feels like all of these years of carefully hiding his feelings behind a crafted shield of armor have gone for naught, and now Harry hates him and wishes that he never kissed Louis and that they're going to lose their friendship. And their bond is something that Louis can't _fathom_ losing,  he knows that he'll never feel this closeness with anyone else that he meets.

"I know that you would want to _talk_ ," Harry says, putting an inordinate amount of inflection on the last word. "And, judging from past experience, talks like the one you want to have doesn't always turn out well."

"Harry.."

"I know that it sounds stupid. That that's no reason to ignore you like you're the plague. But I'm _scared_ , okay? I'm scared of losing my best friend."

"You're not losing me," Louis interrupts.

"But, I.." Harry shakes his head, voice forming his words slowly and he looks like he's lost in his own mind, searching for the proper words to say. "But I _kissed_ you. And you pushed me away. Friends don't kiss each other."

Louis nods, he tries to open his mouth to say something, _anything_ \-- but he can't. The only word that keeps echoing throughout his mind is _friend_ , and he doesn't know if he can go through with this.

"I just," Harry makes a distressed noise and stomps his foot. "I just can't lose you, Lou, so I didn't want to answer you and listen to you rationalize why we can't be friends anymore. I don't even _care_ about the kiss, I care about keeping my best mate.. But I think I've already lost you."

"I do," Louis says shakily. "I care about the uhm.. both. I care about both." Louis takes a cautious step forward. "I care about keeping you. And the kiss."

"Lou, please. This isn't funny."

"It's not," Louis agrees, stepping even closer. "It's not funny. It's like, the kiss. It made me feel?"

"Feel what?" Harry asks, eyes widening.

Louis stops, his socked feet are a centimeter away from Harry's. He can feel Harry's minty breath hitting the bridge of his nose. He stares downwards, looking at how there's only a mere inch of space between their chests that are rising and falling in unison. Louis slowly raises his hand, letting his fingerprints gingerly brush across Harry's cheekbones that have grown more and more prominent over the years. He hears a small voice in the back of his head that sounds precariously like Liam laugh at him for being so cliche, but he quickly ignores it. He's allowed to feel sappy, when Harry's allowing him to touch him while looking down on him with this reverence that makes Louis feel like whenever their eyes meet there's a nebula of green and blue expanding between them.

"It made me feel what I have been feeling for you for years, but like. It was multiplied by a million?" Louis explains.

"You make absolutely no sense," Harry answers, and he's smiling. Louis can't help but smile, too, he had no idea how much he missed the way that Harry's smile was so blindingly bright and could probably cure cancer and he just missed it so, so much. "What did you feel?"

"I felt like," Louis closes his eyes. He feels like he's about to jump off of a building and hurl to his death, and he's definitely not SpiderMan. He can't save himself once he takes this leap. But.. Maybe it'll be worth it. Maybe Harry _won't_ hate him if he tells the truth. "I felt like I was in love with you.. I _am_ in love with you. I have been for so long, and when you kissed me it felt so wonderful, but I couldn't kiss you when you was upset. I couldn't kiss you if I didn't know that you feel the way I do. And it's _okay_ if you don't, it really is. But that's. That's why I pushed you away. Because I love you."

"You.." Harry mumbles. "You love me?"

"Technically," Louis inhales shakily. "Yes."

"Even if I wear..." Harry's throat works as he swallows nervously, and Louis can't help but feel a bit fond, even if Harry has yet to say that he loves him back.

"I don't care what you wear, Haz. You can dress anyway you want, you can do your hair in anyway you want. It's _your_ choice. I.. I am still going to be in love with you, no matter what you wear. Even if it's a suit made of bubble wrap or something that is allegedly supposed to be ' _woman's_ ' clothing. Because what you wear doesn't change what's inside, it doesn't change who _you_ are. I love you, not what you wear. Even though I do love your clothes and you looked.. extremely beautiful last week. It doesn't matter what I think, it matters how you feel."

"I want to kiss you again," Harry says, voice raspy and his breath speeding up infinitesimally. "And not because I'm in a fragile state, but because I want to kiss you."

"I.." Louis breathes, and even though he wants nothing more than to rise on his feet and pull Harry closer and meld their lips together, he stays where he is. "I can't unless you feel the way I do. I just.. don't think I could handle it."

"Louis Tomlinson," Harry's large hands gently cradles his chin and forces him to make their eyes meet once more. "I have loved you ever since I accidentally pissed on your shoe and the only thing you said in return was _hi_. I just started dating people this year because I thought that you would never feel what I feel for you. And now you're here, and you're all. Vulnerable and. And I just really, _really_ want to kiss you."

And that, that's really all of the motivation that Louis needs. He moves his hand to rest on the back of Harry's neck, hand clutching the tendrils there that have fallen from his bun. He rises on his feet and tilts his head to press his lips to Harry's soft ones. It's different than the first kiss, less unprecedented and timid, but it's still amazing. The kiss is fueled with such raw want, and it feels so intimate and the way that their lips press against one another with such steady pressure makes Louis feel like this is the kiss that he has dreamt about for years. But it's so, _so_ much better.

Harry kisses with the same amount of focus that he uses wth everything else, with his deft tongue pressing against Louis' and his hands moving gently to press Louis closer from where they're placed on his waist. His broad chest rises against his own and Louis feels like there is a star being formed in his chest, he feels so light and happy. They detach from the kiss once they've nearly ran out of breath, panting against one another with smiles overwhelming their features.

"I love you," Louis whispers, and he feels like he has just surfaced from a riptide and is inhaling his first, clear breath of air. And it's wonderful. _Harry_ is wonderful. 

**\\\**

"A fucking _month_?" Zayn's voice comes through the phone, Louis presses the mobile between his shoulder and cheek and shifts the groceries to all be in one hand. "You two have been dating for a month and no one has thought to tell me?"

"We discussed sending you a Christmas card," Louis says into the phone and smiles at Harry's neighbor's girlfriend that keeps the lift open for him. "But we figured that your mystery lover wouldn't be too happy when you open up an envelope that has two men only dressed in Christmas hats and carefully placed bows, so I decided to just tell you whenever you actually answered my calls."

"You have no idea how difficult it is to get service in the fucking _Sahara_ , Lou." Zayn snaps, but he's smiling. "Also, I do not have a mystery lover. Just because I drunk dial you about some bloke's blue eyes while in Tokyo doesn't mean that I am having a thing with _anyone_."

"Sure, sure." The lift stops and the girl leaves, Louis smirks when he notices that her cheeks are red. _Maybe I shouldn't have given the lesbian couple artsy nudes for Christmas, even though the shorter one's reaction was hilarious_. "Listen, I am about to make Harry the best chocolate milk that he has ever had in his life. So I should hang up."

"Sure, sure," Zayn drawls sarcastically. "Just leave your best mate that you haven't spoken to in months to go have wild sex with your boyfriend, I see how it is."

Louis grins and the elevator stops on Harry's floor. "I'm glad that you know my priorities. But, really. I miss you. Perhaps you should spend the next few months in a place where you can get cell service?"

Louis can practically hear Zayn's grin, "Perhaps. And I really am happy for you and Haz. I know that you've been wanting this for a long time."

"Thanks, bro. I'm serious, though. I miss your stupid arse." Louis shoves his key into Harry's door. "But I really do have to go."

"Alright, mate. Use protection!" Zayn crows, and Louis keeps his phone pressed to his ear until the line goes dead.

He walks into Harry's flat, tossing his keys in the matching ceramic bowl that Louis made Harry for Christmas (even though his craftsmanship is much less impeccable than the one that Harry gave him and it borderline looks like an inverted boob.) He can smell the scent of meat being seared from the entry hall, so he follows the smell all the way to Harry's matchbox sized kitchen once he takes off his shoes.

"Babe," Louis yells as he walks past the living room and into the kitchen. He pauses when he walks into the small kitchen that is decorated with quirky pictures of oranges all over the white walls.

He inhales, taking in the scene before him. Over the time that he has known Harry and been dating him, he has walked in on him being nearly naked while doing mundane things. But he hasn't seen him _like_.. this since the first night when Louis walked into his flat to see Harry crying on his couch. He swallows over the lump forming in his throat, reaching down to adjust where he is rapidly hardening in his jeans.

Harry's wearing soft lavender panties and a matching bra, this time. His hair is loose and hits in soft waves right where his shoulder blades meet, drawing attention to where his defined muscles are working under the thin strap of lacy lavender material that's hooked around his back. Louis lets his eyes linger further down, to the way that the lavender underwear is hugging his pale hips and making his arse seem bloody _edible_. Louis feels like he can't even breathe when he notices the garters that is hooking thigh high stockings to his underwear, and he feels endeared when he notices how there is lavender lace on top of the stockings. He looks fucking _delightful_ , with the way his body seems to be made for the lingerie. And Louis is so, _so_ turned on.

Harry turns around, setting down a spatula before leaning against the counter in a way that further elongates his body. The view of Harry, with his laurels and stomach tattoos on display and his swallows peeking out endearingly from his bra straps. The bra itself is quite elegant, made mostly of lace and thin enough that Louis can make out the hardened shapes of his nipples from under the lavender material. He feels his knees weaken when he glances lower to see that this pair of panties, much like the ones before, is sheer. Louis can make out the large outline of Harry's hardened cock through the underwear, and he wettens his lips when he notices that the head is sticking out from the waistband, pink and already a bit wet at the tip. 

"Do you like it?" Harry asks sheepishly, his cheeks filling with color and Louis smiles when he notices that his boyfriend is wearing makeup.

"Fuck, babe." Louis breathes, walking closer. "You look amazing."

His hands slide over Harry's tight stomach, pinching lightly at his hard nipples through the material of his bra before sliding his hand to cup Harry's arse. He smiles and presses his lips against Harry's neck, leaving a mark beneath his Adam's apple and gripping his bum, feeling the soft flesh warm underneath his hands. Harry releases a breathy sigh and Louis rises on his feet to press a biting kiss to his mouth. He detaches to look at Harry's addictive green eyes, smiling a bit before pressing a quick peck to his mouth.

"The bra is new," Louis states.

Which, it's true. Dating Harry has led him to learn that he strictly prefers panties over any other type of underwear, and Louis is _completely_ okay with that, and he has even bought quite a few pairs that he knows Harry will love for his birthday. But the bra is a new, but welcomed, addition.

"It's a bralette," Harry corrects around a moan when Louis presses his hand against his hole, not entering it (because he doesn't have lube at the moment and he's not an animal), but just pressing teasing touches against where Harry is warmest. "And it was a matching set.. Had to wear it together."

Louis grins and moves his hand to grasp his arsecheek once again, "Well, you look beautiful. How long does your food have to cook?"

"I just put it in the oven for forty minutes," Harry kisses Louis and slots his leg that's only clad in stockings between Louis'.

"Perfect," Louis smiles and takes a step back, grabbing Harry's hand and leading him towards his bedroom. "I want to ruin you." he explains bluntly, opening up the door.

"You really like it?" Harry asks, insecurity coating his voice.

Louis gently guides Harry to lay on the bed. He sprawls over the white sheets of the bed, his dark curls fanning around his face, making him look like a proper Snow White. Louis grins to himself, slipping out of his trousers and throwing his shirt over the vintage chair that Harry got from that dingy second hand store he loves so much. He takes off his socks and eyes one of Harry's flower crowns standing proudly on his dresser. It's quite beautiful, made of baby's breath and lilacs, and goes perfectly with Harry's lingerie. He picks the flowercrown up gingerly and hands it to Harry as he straddles over his boyfriend's hips.

"Put this on for me, love." Louis instructs, smiling at the blush that fills Harry's cheeks as he puts it on over his curls.

Louis leans over and reaches in Harry's nightstand, sifting for some condoms and lube. He lays them to the side and looks at the beautiful man laid beneath him, smiling when he catches sight of Harry biting his lower lip that is an agonizingly beautiful shade of deep red. Louis straightens his shoulders and schools his features to take on what Harry calls his ' _Daddy Demeanor_.'

Over the course of the month that they've been dating (and, subsequently, shagging), they have both learned that they are unearthly sexually compatible. Louis has always had a thing for taking control and learned via visiting several sex clubs during his first year at Uni that he loved being called _Daddy_. And Harry, who is unabashedly a sub and loves to be fucked with flowers in his hair while being dotingly called princess, has always wanted to give the daddy kink a try. The third week of them dating was mostly dedicated to setting sexual boundaries and kink negotiation and finding what made one another _click_. Louis loves being Harry's Daddy and taking care of him, and Harry loves to be fucked by Louis until he has blissful tears burning the corners of his eyes. This is the first time that they've ever had Harry decked out in lingerie in the mix, though.

"Wanna be fucked by Daddy, baby?" Louis asks, testing the waters. He runs his hands over Harry's chest, pinching over his nipples, resulting in a high moan. "Use your words, Princess."

Harry moans, hands clutching Louis' thighs needily. "Please."

Louis smirks, pulling Harry's hair lightly. "Please who, baby?"

"Please, Daddy." Harry whimpers.

Louis leans down and presses biting kisses to Harry's neck, marking him up and making Harry _his_. He moves one of his hands down to slide beneath Harry's panties, taking his cock in his hand and giving him a few, swift tugs. Harry already has precome steadily coming from his dick, and Louis loves how riled up his baby gets so easily. He kisses Harry harshly to muffle his resultant moan before taking his hand out of Harry's panties.

"Want Daddy to fuck your mouth?" Louis asks, rising on his knees and waiting for Harry's answering nod before straddling Harry's face.

He looks down, feeling attraction build in his gut, and he can't help but fist over his cock in a few quick strokes at the sight of Harry, with his heavy with mascara lashes making his eyes seem even more nymph-like as he stares up at Louis in waiting, mouth open and waiting for Louis to begin to fuck into him. Harry whines at the sight, looking hurt that he is choosing to use his hand to placate his stiff cock instead of Harry's mouth, so Louis reaches down and fists his hair in Harry's curls, being mindful to not move his flowercrown.

"Greedy baby," Louis murmurs under his breath as he slowly feeds his cock into Harry's mouth.

Harry swallows around him greedily, taking Louis' (admittedly quite big) prick into his plush mouth, cheeks hollowing around him, but he still allows for Louis to control the pace like the good sub he is. Louis groans, basking in the warm heat and moving forward until he knows that he has filled Harry's throat with as much as he can before pulling back and thrusting shallowly. He begins to fuck Harry's mouth in earnest, moving in small thrusts to get his throat ready before he truly begins to fuck his throat. Harry moans beneath him greedily, eyes open and watching him alertly as he takes Louis' cock _so_ well. Louis murmurs praises to his sub under his breath while pulling his hair with one hand and reaching back to toy with Harry's nipples under his bralette with the other.

He only stops fucking his throat when there are tears burning his eyes and Louis feels like he is seconds away from coming. Harry lets out a needy mewl of a whine when Louis moves away, reaching out as Louis grabs the lube and settles between Harry's milky thighs.

"Put your legs over my shoulders, Princess," Louis orders as he puts the strawberry lube over his fingers. "Gonna have you fuck yourself on my hands before Daddy fucks you proper, alright?"

Harry nods, his movements are slow and languid as he puts his stocking clad legs over his shoulders. Louis gently moves Harry's panties to the side before rubbing his lube covered fingers over his hole. He waits until Harry is completely pliant and whining for Louis to please fuck him already before he breaches his first finger into Harry's tight heat. He crooks his finger, searching for Harry's prostate and pressing when he finds it. He basks in the sounds of Harry's moans and adds a second finger with even more lube when he knows that Harry is well past ready. He waits until he is three fingers deep and has more than enough lube before he stops moving his hands to fuck into Harry.

"Alright, baby," Louis says in his best Daddy voice after Harry lets out a needy whine. "Fuck yourself onto my hand."

Harry uses the leverage of his legs over Louis' shoulders to cant his hips forward and fuck himself down onto Louis' fingers. He moans loudly, and Louis focuses on keeping his hand steady for his baby to fuck down onto while watching Harry intently. He leans down to kiss Harry's stocking covered thighs wetly, keeping his eyes anchored on Harry's lax mouth and the way that his flowercrown is askew on his head. He looks like a fucking fairy like this, like Louis' own fairy that was sent to him to take care of and nurture and have him bring this bright, unique happiness in his life. Louis reaches down to take himself in his free hand, rubbing over his cock at a pace that matches Harry's thrusts.

" _Daddy_ ," Harry moans, voice heavy and eyes glazed over while his mouth grins around his mewling, lazily. Louis smirks up at him and stops his hand from moving over his own prick. "Please, fuck me."

Louis slowly takes out his fingers, wiping his wet hand on the sheets before grabbing the condom. He slips on the condom and adds a gracious amount of lube over his cock and even more lube on Harry's arse before helping Harry turn over to lay on his stomach. He rises on his knees, and he feels impossibly hard as he moves Harry's panties to the side and slowly pushes his dick into Harry's arse. The fabric of Harry's lacy panties rub against his shaft and it feels surprisingly good, but not nearly as good as Harry's tight heat.

He begins to fuck Harry in earnest thrusts, admiring the way that stars burst beneath his eyes every time he thrusts into Harry and how Harry's moans sound better than an angel's voice. He watches the muscles of Harry's back work, and his pale skin look so delicate beneath the lavender fabric of his bralette that Louis can't help but lean forward and suck a quick mark against Harry's neck. He pulls Harry's curls in time with his thrusts, knowing that he loves the pain that bursts through his veins as a result of it. Flower petals are steadily falling against the messy sheets and Louis can tell by the way that Harry's moans are steadily getting higher and how his thrusts that he is steadily aiming backwards onto Louis' dick is getting sloppier.

Louis leans forward, his sweaty chest pressing against Harry's back as he reaches into Harry's already sticky laced panties to grab for his dick. It only takes a few strokes of his hand for Harry to seize up and let out an inordinately loud moan, and then his come is coating stickily over Louis' hand.

Louis slowly takes his still-hard dick from Harry's tight warmth and gingerly moves Harry to lay on his back once more. He looks utterly debauched, glazed eyes the color of summer grass and his cheeks holding a permanent flush that's the color of roses. Louis gets on his knees and uses Harry's come to provide wetness to his cock as he strokes over it once he has taken the condom off. He moans loudly as Harry reaches up a languid hand to join his own, and it's only a few more strokes until Louis is coming on Harry's heaving chest, right on the thin fabric of his bralette.

Louis exhales for what feels like is the first time in years before falling on the bed to lay beside Harry. He uses his last amount of strength to reach into the bedside table and grab one of Harry's wet wipes to gingerly clean off the sticky come from his hands and Harry's stomach. He discards it in the small trashcan that's directly beside Harry's bed (Louis moved it there weeks ago because they're both lazy after sex and Harry doesn't like come-coated things on his hardwood floors.) along with his used condom. He grabs Harry's hands and cleans them thoroughly before raining his long fingers with kisses.

"What's your color, Haz?" Louis murmurs quietly, reaching across Harry for Harry's phone to turn on one of his playlists that's filled with soothing music and is suitably named as ' _serene_ ', because Harry's a hipster at heart. "Cmon baby, stay with me."

"Good, green." Harry drawls slowly, his hands reach out for Louis, and Louis grabs his boyfriend and presses his warm body against his chest. "Loved it."

"You did so _good_ , baby. Was a proper princess, with your flowercrown and pretty lingerie. You made Daddy so _happy_." Louis kisses Harry's hair gently.

"Thank you," Harry whispers, and Louis knows that those two words have several meanings behind it.

"No, thank you, baby. You was so, _so_ good." Louis moves down to kiss his temple, and then the bridge of his nose. "I love you, H."

"Love you," Harry replies, and he actually shifts upwards and opens his eyes to look at him owlishly. "So much."

Louis smiles and pulls his little spoon closer. The moon is rising steadily in the night sky and _Lose It_ by Oh Wonder is crooning softly in Harry's room that is only illuminated by his fairy lights, and Harry is humming softly along with the song as he slowly begins to regain his surroundings and shed the effects of his subspace that he is always so quick to go under to. Louis gently runs his fingers through Harry's curls, smiling at the feeling of his soft hair pressing against his own bare chest, and he wouldn't rather be anywhere else than with his boy humming happily against his chest and the room smelling of sex and cinnamon candles.

**fin**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please feel free to leave comments, kudos, and share this on tumblr! Please do not repost this anywhere without my permission and message me if you want to translate!
> 
> [come say hi to me on tumblr](http://the-rose-has-been.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about how real Larry is or safe bdsm values!


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